


Good(?) To See You Again

by aceflowerchild



Series: I've Got Problems We Can't Fix [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bigender Character, Disabled Character, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Eating Disorders, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Mental Health Issues, Mental facility, Muteness, Nonbinary Character, Past Attempted Suicide, Sorry Not Sorry, Trans Male Character, alex john and aaron are all trans guys, and herc is nb, everyone is kinda fucked up in this au tbh, its aaron, john does not like contact very much, laf and abby are genderfluid, martha m is bigender, marthas only in the prologue, the fact that that is a tag is astounding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-26 09:12:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7568515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceflowerchild/pseuds/aceflowerchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hi, My name is Alexander, and I'm here because I'm a failure."</p><p>After five years, John doesn't expect his past to catch up to him (more like smack him in the face), and certainly not in the form of one Alexander Hamilton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Should I be working on the next chapter for Homeless Hearts? Yes, of course. But instead, here's an au in which everyone is really kind of fucked up. It's gonna be a series, and each fic thingy is gonna focus on different character/s. So, sit back and enjoy. Or not, I'm not ur parent. (nd sorry about the confusing summary [maybe] i had forgotten a few words, but its fixed now)

John trudged along the familiar path to the room where group therapy was held. There was a joke between the patients of calling it ‘The Room Where It Happens’, the ‘it’ being miracles. His feet carried him down the stairs, acting more on muscle memory than anything else. He had followed the same routine every day for nearly a year, after all.

John had heard from Martha that they might be getting a new kid soon, and he wondered vaguely what they’d be like. Then he told himself that it didn’t matter, because he’d be gone after that day. His Nanna was getting him later on and he’d be going to live with her while Henry took care of his own issues.

Once in The Room, John sat in his normal seat, right between Martha’s wheelchair and Burr, who was rocking gently. He almost always was.

James Madison, the therapist, started the session with introductions, as always. Your name, why you were there, and any other tidbits of information you cared to share. John heard Madison say, “We have a new patient, so I’ll let him go first…” before tuning him out completely.

He focused back in almost at once, however, upon hearing, “Hi, my name is Alexander, and I’m here because I’m a failure.” John looked up from where his legs were crossed in his chair and towards the voice.

“Alexander,” Madison warned.

“What? It’s true. I _failed_ to kill myself, so now I’m here. If I had succeeded, which _was_ the general idea, y’know, then I wouldn’t be _here_ at all.” Alexander gestured around himself, implying the world in general, on the word _here_.

John cracked a small smile and said, “Calm down there, edge-lord.”

Alexander looked at him, bewildered. Then he started laughing, along with several other people around the room. Even Burr let out a chuckle.

Madison turned to John and said, “Well, John, since you’re suddenly feeling so talkative, why don’t you introduce yourself?”

John’s smile dropped immediately and he sighed. “Hi, my name is John Laurens, and I’m a suicidal drug addict, but after just one year in this place, I’ve quit, and you can too, with two easy payments of your life and soul,” he said, in a fake, cheery voice. Madison sighed, looking like he regretted all of his life choices, and rubbed his temples. John really did feel bad for him sometimes. That didn’t mean he would stop.

After group, they all headed to lunch, and John felt someone tap his back. He tensed and turned around to see Alexander.

“Hello sir, and how may I help you on this _fine_ day?” John asked, turning back around and continuing on up the stairs without waiting to see if Alexander was even following.

“Uh, hi! Yeah, hi.” Alexander bounded up the steps to catch up with John, who kept a steady pace. “First of all, it’s raining, second, I’m Alexander. I’m new.” The boy held out a hand for John to shake, but John ignored it and kept going.

“I know that it’s raining, I was being sarcastic. Or emo. Maybe both. And I also know that you’re new, because I know all 5 – now 6 – other people who’re here because I’ve been here longer than all of them except Burr – he’s the one who doesn’t talk – and even if I didn’t, Madison explicitly stated it.”

“Oh. That’s right,” Alexander muttered to himself. Then, to John, “Do you wanna eat lunch together?”

John was taken aback by the question. “Uhh, sure? I mean, if you’re okay with a few other people being there.” And by few, he meant one.

“That’s fine!” Alexander said cheerily. John found his energy an unsettling, though pleasant change in the usually depressing atmosphere of the facility. “But wouldn’t we all be in the same room anyway? I mean, this is only a modified house after all.”

“That’s true, but we don’t _need_ to eat in the dining room, so Martha and I usually sit in the living room. Less people.”

They entered the kitchen together and John grabbed three brown paper bags from off of the table where they sat before leading Alexander over to where Martha sat on the floor, next to their wheelchair, drumming their fingers on their thigh.

“Hello Martha,” John said, plopping onto the carpet next to them and handing them one of the bags, setting one of the other ones next to him and opening the third. Alexander stood next to them awkwardly.

John looked up from his egg-salad sandwich at Alexander and asked, mouth full, “Well? You gonna sit down or what?”

Alexander’s eyes widened and he sat quickly, opening the bag in front of him and pulling out each item one by one; egg-salad sandwich, baby carrots, and a juice box without a straw. He picked up a baby carrot and nibbled on it slowly.

“Dude, you know what?” John asked, a thought coming to him suddenly. “This is like, a ‘For  Girls’ place,” he did finger quotes around the words, “but I’ve just been assuming that you’re a guy because of Madison. Are you a guy?”

Alexander nodded. “Yes, I’m transgender. A trans guy. I didn’t even know that this was an all-girl place though. So what are your pronouns?” he directed the question to both John and Martha. “Mine are he/him.”

John held up a hand and said, “He/him,” before taking another bite of his sandwich.

“They/them,” Martha said, shoving carrots in their mouth.

“Wait, so what about Burr?” Alexander asked.

“Trans guy. Martha’s bigender, I’m trans, and the only other not-cis person is Abigail, who’s genderfluid, and they’re a nurse. That’s them right there,” John said, pointing out the nurse who was leaning against a wall. Abby was short and stocky with a kind face and dark skin. John would miss them.

He shook himself out of his reverie and looked over at Alexander. “So, why’re you here? Other than being a failure, of course.”

“Oh. It was just a lot of stuff that lead up to me trying to drown myself. I hope it’ll satisfy you to know that many people who were very important to me are now dead.” Alexander put down the carrot he was nibbling on and cleared his throat. “What about you two?”

“I lost both of my legs in an accident a while ago,” Martha said, holding up one of their legs as an example; it ended at their knee. “And _that_ can really fuck you up.”

“And I wasn’t lying when I said I was a suicidal drug addict,” John said. “Or when I said I had quit. I was in rehab before this, but when one of the other kids found me half-dead in the bathroom… I got moved here.” On that cheery note, John finished his sandwich and moved onto his juice box, ripping it open.

“Why don’t they give us straws with these?” Alexander asked, effectively changing the subject.

“We could use it as a weapon. It’s the same reason that they don’t allow chest binders or clothing with strings,” Martha said, copying John’s action.

“Oh. I suppose that does make sense. Hey John,” Alexander said, turning to face the boy in question. “You said this was a For Girls facility, but they’re not using our birthnames. Or at least, Madison wasn’t. Not that I’m complaining, but I wonder.

“Yeah,” John said, sliding his carrots over to Martha who then gave him half of their sandwich. “Madison’s a good guy. Really, the only person who’ll deadname you is Adams; he’s a real fucking dick. He keeps hitting on Abby too, which is both sad and hilarious. He’s new, but I’m sure that as soon as Martha finds a replacement she’ll fire him.”

Alexander looked confused and looked over at Martha. He looked back to John and pointed at them, one eyebrow raised.

John laughed and said, “No, not them. Martha Washington; she’s the owner of the place. Usually she’d be here, but she’s sick right now. And getting back onto the topic of nurses, there’s one that you should watch out for: Thomas Jefferson. You probably won’t run into him unless you’re wandering around at night since he’s got the 10 to 6 shift, while everyone’s in their rooms. He’ll use your name and pronouns, but other than that, he’s kind of like, a huge dick pretty much always.”

“How so?” Alexander asked, picking up his carrot again. John noticed that he hadn’t eaten anything else.

“He’s gotta argue about everything which is dumb because he’s almost _thirty_ , and he’s really smug, he flaunts the fact that he’s rich all the time, and the man agrees with slavery even though he’s _black_. He’s also against ‘illegal immigration’ and stuff,” John said, gesturing with his hands.

Alexander let out a barking laugh and said, “He’s going to _hate_ me then; I’m from the Caribbean, and, well, I don’t exactly have a visa.”

The call to end lunch came then, and Alexander moved to stand, but John grabbed his wrist and let go quickly, not wanting to prolong the contact. “Eat your sandwich.”

“What? No, I’m not hungry and lunch is over anyway John-” Alexander tried to protest, but John cut him.

“Just eat it. If you don’t, you’ll probably just end up here longer. At least eat half.”

Alexander looked at him and bit his lip, worry creasing his brow.

“You _are_ allowed to eat Alexander,” John said, softening. “And you need food to function properly. Nothing bad will happen to you. I promise.”

Alexander sighed in resignation and took a hesitant bite, chewing slowly. John smiled at him encouragingly. Alexander took another few bites and put down what was left.

“I don’t think I can eat any more,” he whispered.

“That’s alright.” John smiled at Alexander and stood up, turning to help Martha back into their wheelchair like he did every day.

“See you later then, John,” Alexander said, once Martha was safely in their wheelchair.

“Yeah. Actually, probably not. Today’s my last day. But maybe someday,” John said. He took a deep breath and squeezed Martha in a hug. They gasped in surprise – John didn’t blame them as this was the most contact he’d had with anyone since he’d arrived – and quickly squeezed him back before John pulled away. He gave them a kiss on the forehead and straightened back up. “I’ll miss you my friend.”

He held out a hand to Alexander to bump. “Bye Alexander.”

The shorter boy indulged the fist-bump and said, “You can just call me Alex. Bye.”

John grinned at him and then he heard John Adams’ voice calling, “Margaret Laurens? Your grandmother is here for you.”

“That’s me. But guys.” John waved and ran upstairs to grab the bag with his things in it. He noticed another bag sitting on the bed that used to be his. Alexander’s, he assumed. He checked his pocket to make sure that he still had the piece of paper with the numbers of the staff (with John Adams’ thoroughly scribbled out).

He ran back down and outside, following his Nanna to her car. She babbled on about how tall he had become and how everyone was so excited to see him. John was paying little attention, preparing himself mentally for the drive from Virginia back to South Carolina.

As they drove off from the building where John had lived for nearly a year, John wondered if he would ever see any of the people there again. Part of him hoped he wouldn’t.


	2. You Don’t Know Me (5 Years Later)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the second (and last) part! It's... ;longer than I thought it would be. Also, I had written this before hand (like out on paper) and I had this whole thing where they were talking and playing with each other's hair, and then I remembered as i was typing it up that John is not a big fan of contact in this, and I couldnt get it in without it being awkwardly worded, so yeah. Enjoy! and they do talk about death in the second part and sort of reference and eating disorder in the first. please let me know if you need anything else tagged!

John Laurens was 22 years old when two things happened; the first was experiencing his first bar fight and the second was that his past had come to find him (outside of the few connections he still had to it).

He had gone to a bar near campus with his friends, Lafayette and Hercules, to celebrate both Lafayette’s turning 21 and the new semester. It was really just an excuse to get out of the apartment for once.

John had been drinking a Shirley Temple (he didn’t drink, not after his… unpleasant past with alcohol) when he heard a person behind him saying, “Dumb bitch,” and in the next second, that person fell onto John, another person having punched him. John was smart enough to move out of the way before the man’s assailant came back for more.

After letting the small ball of rage get in a few more hits (because really, the guy _did_ deserve it), John braced himself and cut in by picking up the attacker, who responded by thrashing and kicking. John called over to his friends, saying, “I’m gonna take this one outside, let ‘em blow off some steam. I’ll be back.”

He carried the person, over his shoulder and still thrashing, and didn’t set them down until they were both safely outside. Once on the sidewalk, they straightened themself out, and John couldn’t help but find the face familiar. He brushed it off as them being from school.

Then John noticed that they were bleeding.

“You’ve got a nasty cut or something on your forehead. I’m gonna get a first-aid kit, you stay right there,” John said sternly, jogging off to his beat up, blue pick-up truck and grabbing his first-aid kit from the glovebox.

As John cleaned off the stranger’s face he noticed that they were fairly attractive. It certainly helped that John had a thing for bruises, and they had a shiner already forming under their left eye. John finished cleaning the cut and gently placed a Star Wars band-aid on top of it.

“There,” he said, quickly backing up, sitting on his feet.

The stranger felt their forehead and winced. After a few seconds of silence, they held out their hand and said, “Alex, he/him.”

John looked at the hand and then back up at Alex’s face. “I’d prefer not to, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh! That’s fine,” Alex said, drawing the hand back.

John sighed in relief. “Thank you. I’m John Laurens, also he/him.” At his name, Alex’s face twisted into a look of confusion.

“I know that name from somewhere,” he said.

“Do you go to Columbia?” John asked. “If you do, we might just have a class together or something.”

“I’m enrolled, but I don’t start my classes until tomorrow. No, it’s been a while since I’ve heard that name. John Laurens.” Alex muttered John’s name to himself a few times, rolling the syllables around on his tongue. “Hey, you didn’t-” he was cut off by a pinging in his pocket.

John sat awkwardly, spacing in and out as Alex read a text on his phone, then typed something out, hissing furiously under his breath.

John was brought back to reality by a sharp click and Alex’s mutter of, “Fucking Thomas goddamn _Jefferson_.”

“How do you know him?” John asked sharply. He was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion of why Alex seemed so familiar, and he didn’t think he was ready to face it if he was right.

“Who? Thomas Jefferson?” Alex asked, looking puzzled.

“ _Yes,_ ” John  hissed.

“It’s kind of a weird story, and pretty personal too, so unless you’re prepared to list-”

John cut him off, only feeling a little bad about it. “Yes, trust me, just _go_. Please,” he added as an afterthought.

Alex grumbled about John being pushy but John couldn’t find it in himself to care past the panic that was threatening to overflow.

“Alright. Fine. I don’t know how to sugarcoat this, so I’m just going to be blunt. When I was 16, I was placed in a mental facility, because I’d been through some shit. Thomas Jefferson was one of the nurses there. When I got released, I was still only 17, so I needed a legal guardian, and Jefferson was assigned as my temporary caretaker. He’s just an all-around asshole for no reason that I can see, and even after he didn’t need to watch over me, we kept in touch.

“I guess he’s more of a frenemy now than anything. And I’m really only telling you all of this because I think that’s where I know you from. John?” Alex asked, suddenly sounding worried. John was staring into space, trying not to panic.

“No,” he said, voice weak. Then, more forcefully, “ _No._ You don’t know me, you _can’t_ know me! Fuck, I wasn’t- I didn’t- I didn’t want to reconnect with this shit! _Fuck_!” John put his face in his hands and collapsed against the wall of the bar behind him, mumbling to himself and trying to regain control of his erratic breathing. As long as he didn’t start crying, he’d be fine. ‘Just don’t start crying, don’t start crying, don’t-’ he felt the tears starting to stream down his face and into his hands. Well there went that.

John tilted his head up, towards the sky, and wiped his hands on his pants, sobbing uncontrollably. His only thoughts were that at least there wasn’t anyone around to witness this except for Alex – _Alexander_ from all that time ago – and John was vaguely aware of him typing on his phone.

A few minutes later, Alex gently put a hand on John’s shoulder, but John violently flinched away from it, yelling, “Don’t touch me!” Alex drew his hands back as if he’d been burned, and then he started speaking softly to John. John tried to focus what he was saying, _what was he saying_?

It took John a moment to realize that Alexander was not speaking English, but French. It took him another moment to realize that he was singing, not speaking. It sounded like a lullaby – one that John recognized. Lafayette sang it often, but before that, Jefferson would sing it to him to help him when he had a panic attack during the night. ‘That’s what Alex is doing,’ he realized.

John focused on the words of the song, and once his breathing was calm enough, he joined in, voice still wavering and hiccupping. They sang through the lullaby a few times until John’s heartbeat was almost back to normal. He scrubbed his face with his hands and Alex hurriedly handed him a tissue, which John took gratefully.

“I’m sorry about that. But thank you.”

Alex nodded and bit his lip. “You don’t need to apologize to me,” he said.

John shook his head furiously, feeling his ponytail bounce around behind him. “I yelled at you. But the touch thing isn’t personal, just uh- just so you know.”

Alexander smiled gently over at him. “I didn’t think it was. Don’t worry though, I’m not mad.” He stood and looked over to the doors. “We should head back inside. Your friends are probably worried about you.”

“Nah, they’re probably making out. Let’s go back inside anyway though,” John said, standing as well. The two headed in and to the back of the bar where John was sure Laf and Herc would be. On the way, however, the guy from earlier spotted them.

“Hey!” he called out. “You there! Why I outta-”

John cut him off and stepped in front of Alexander, saying, “If you touch him, I will not hesitate to break your _fucking_ nose.” And while John’s height of 5’5” may not have been intimidating (especially when the guy was at least 6 feet tall himself), the fury in his eyes was terrifying as Hell was to a Christian.

John continued forward, Alex next to him.

Near the back of the bar, John spotted his friends; Hercules had Lafayette on the wall and Laf had her legs wrapped around Herc’s torso.

“Called it,” John muttered to Alex. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, “Hey lovebirds! I made a friend!”

The two against the wall broke apart and looked at John. They saw Alex a moment later and grinned. Hercules gently set Laf down and she straightened out her skirt, while Herc wiped her lipstick off of their face.

“Hey!” Hercules said cheerfully.

“Bonjour. You are like a tiny fire,” Lafayette said to Alex.

“That’s not usually something I hear. It’s more often things like, ‘You have problems,’ or ‘You need to control your anger,’ and, my favorite, ‘You need to pick your battles,’” Alexander said, and he scoffed.

“I simply mean that you are full of passion. It is neither good nor bad; it just is,” Laf told him.

“Now, the ‘full of passion’ isn’t something I ever hear outside of the bedroom,” Alexander said, winking. John facepalmed behind him.

Hercules stepped forward and wrapped their arms around Laf’s waist. “Are you hitting on my girlfriend?” they asked, pressing a kiss to Lafayette’s cheek. They scowled but John could see the mirth in their eyes.

“Well, she is simply so lovely. I can see why you care for her,” Alexander said. Lafayette threw her head back and laughed and Herc took the opportunity to press a kiss to her throat.

Alex held out his hand to the two of them and said, “Alexander, he/him.”

Hercules shook his hand first and said, “Hercules, they/them.”

“Lafayette, it is my last name, and she/her, for the moment.”

Hercules and Laf swayed together, Herc still with their arms around Laf’s waist. After the song ended (which didn’t take very long) Hercules looked over at John and said, “Well, John? You never introduced yourself.”

John rolled his eyes and whined, “But all of you know me already. There’d be no point.”

“Give me an update on your life then,” Alexander said, smiling hugely. “Group style.”

John returned the smile. “Hi, my name is John Laurens and I am no longer a suicidal drug addict. I am almost 23 years old and I live in an apartment with my two best friends. I got top surgery last year, I am still in touch with Martha Manning, and I am _really fucking hungry_. Can we get Burger King?”

* * *

 

John, of course, was the one who drove, being the only one who had a car there, no matter it’s level of shittiness.

Henry had offered to pay for his car, but John had refused. He wanted to do this for himself, to know that he _could_ do it for himself. And there was still that lingering paranoia that Henry would hold it over his head, as he had done with so many things when John was younger. But they had moved past that, John knew. Henry had seen a therapist, had worked out some issues while John went up to Virginia to be in the Washingtons’ facility.

So John drove. The cab of the truck could only fit two people comfortably, and with Hercules’ broad shoulders, even that would’ve been a stretch. So Laf and Herc laid down in the bed on top of the blankets that John kept back there, while Alex was in the cab with John.

“How’s life, Alexander?” John asked, not being able to handle the heavy silence between them. He had to remind himself not to bounce his leg and instead settled for tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

Alexander, who had no restraints from bouncing his leg, did so. “Oh, it’s…” he gestured vaguely around himself. “It’s pretty okay actually. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say it’s good. I’ve got accepted into a good school, my foster parents are pretty nice, and I’m currently in a truck with a very attractive man on our way to get Burger King. I am also getting top surgery in December as a sort of combined Christmas and birthday gift. Life is certainly much better than the last time we met.

“And Aaron Burr, do you remember him?” He barely paused to let John nod in response before he was saying, “I got him to talk to me only a week after we’d met! Granted, it was just to tell me to shut up, but regardless, it is a victory. I didn’t pressure him into talking either, I just sort of sat and talked to him about anything I could think of. It’s a habit, I suppose. Usually drives people away. Oh well.

“But I heard that Aaron’s at Columbia now, is that true? That’d be pretty funny if it was, now all we would need is Martha and everyone that I ever talked to would be all together, at least in the terms of residents. Oh, and John Adams got fired, just like you said, and he got replaced with this really nice girl named Martha Wayles, I think? But back to Burr, do you know if he’s at Columbia?”

John simply shrugged, not sure how else to respond to the mass of information that Alex had just dumped onto him. “I- I don’t know,” he finally stammered out. “Ask Laf and Herc, one of them might know. They get around the school more than I do.”

Alex did so, yelling the question out of the small window. John didn’t her who answered, or even if anyone did, but someone must have, because a moment later, Alex was saying, “Thanks!” and sliding the window closed.

“He is,” Alex said once he was sitting back in his seat. John nodded, risking a glance over to the side. “Lafayette said that he just started this semester, so that’s probably why you haven’t seen him.”

“Maybe,” John mused. It seemed that everyone was just coming back. He wondered if he would see anyone else from that time of his life, and if so, when. He pondered over who it could be. Maybe he would run into Jefferson, or it could be Abby. Perhaps even Sally Hemings, who John had never been close to, but had spoken with enough to know that she was a kind-hearted person. He was brought back to himself by someone asking what he wanted to order. He ended up just getting a whopper and fries for each of them. They ate in the parking lot, Alex and John opting to sit in the bed with Laf and Herc. By the time John was done eating, Alexander had only eaten a few fries and his burger was untouched.

“Alex, you need to eat,” John told him.

“I’m not really hungry, John. I’ll simply eat it later,” Alex said, absently nibbling on another fry. Was that the only way Alexander ate?

John squinted at him suspiciously. “I’m not afraid to shove that down your throat, you know.”

“Ooh, John. I hope that’s not the only thing that you’re not afraid to shove down my throat,” Alex said, winking. John tried to stay serious, failing miserably as his laughter bubbled up and out of his throat. Alex joined in while Laf started choking on her fries as she laughed and Hercules pounded her on the back, their own laughter booming through the parking lot.

“I’m kidding,” Alex said, once everything had quieted down a bit. “But really, This isn’t like before. I’m truly just not hungry. And I promise you that I will eat it, okay?”

They looked at each other for a long moment before John conceded. “Alright. Okay, fine.” John hopped out of the bed and made his way around to the driver’s door. “I’m gonna start driving again, so anyone who wants to join me up here better speak now or forever hold their piece in fear of the bugs.”

Alex clambered out after him, walking around to the passenger’s side. “I’ll go with you. Wouldn’t to intrude on a lover’s moment.

Alex opened the door while Laf muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “I could say the same for you two,” into her burger.

Once the truck was started back up, John asked Alex, “Do you wanna come back to our apartment?” Then he started mentally kicking himself. Physically, of course, his foot was on the pedals and his ass on the seat, but mentally, he was doing himself a serious beating. ‘Curse this stupid brain of mine! Why can’t I have more impulse control? Fucking hell.’

“Sure. Sounds like fun,” Alex said, and John let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I’m surprised that you didn’t make a sex joke out of this,” John said, pulling out of the parking space (finally).

“I do not communicate solely through sex jokes,” Alexander said indignantly, crossing his arms and pouting like a child. “Although I probably would have if I’d thought about it,” he admitted after a moment, uncrossing his arms.

It took only 15 minutes to drive back to the apartment, during which Laf and Herc got cold and they all had to squish into the seat. Laf sat on Hercules’ lap and Alex squeezed himself as close to them as he could, trying to touch John as little as possible.

When getting out of the truck, Alex fell and hurt his knee and John insisted on carrying him up the stairs, despite Alex’s protests.

By the time that the four of them had made it up the stairs, John was sweating and panting heavily. It didn’t help that he was wearing two shirts, or that one of them was long-sleeved. Still John, refused to put Alexander down until he was at the couch, and then he crumpled down onto the floor. He hadn’t minded the contact as much as he’d thought, but it had still sort of drained him, along with the physical exertion and the early autumn heat.

Laf and Herc sat on the other side of the couch, looking as much a couple as they could be with Lafayette tucked into Hercules’ side, while Herc had their arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“Let’s watch a movie,” Lafayette suggested.

“Alright. But the question is, which one?” Herc asked.

“Let’s just look on Netflix,” John said from the floor. They eventually settled on Alex’s choice of Mulan.

Halfway through the movie, Alex finally unwrapped his burger and started eating. By the end of it, Lafayette and Hercules were both asleep.

Alex made a move to get up, saying, “I should leave, it’s getting late.”

“Wait,” John said. “Why don’t you spend the night? I can drive you to campus in the morning if you want.” He wasn’t sure what compelled him to keep saying these things, but he was seriously considering taping his mouth shut around Alex if he couldn’t stop.

“Are you sure? My first class is at 930. And I’d need to leave pretty early to get ready,” Alexander said.

“That’s fine. Mine is at the same time, so I can just wake up a little earlier and drive you over.”

“Only if it won’t be a bother,” Alex said.

“No bother,” John assured him. “Come on, I probably have some sweats that you can borrow.” He motioned for Alex to follow John to his room. John looked through his drawers until he found suitable pajamas for them both.

“If you wanna change in here, that’s fine, if not, the bathroom is right next door,” John said, handing Alex the clothes.

He took them and smiled gently. “Thank you. I’m gonna change in the bathroom.”

John changed quickly, rubbing the scars on his chest lightly, proudly, before slipping on a t-shirt. He laid back on the bed, arms behind his head, and closed his eyes. They snapped back open when he heard a sharp intake of breath from the door. He looked over and saw Alex, eyes wide and staring at John’s heavily scarred forearms.

John sat up slowly and did his best to not hide his arms. “Yeah, I know. They’re not exactly something I’m proud of. It’s why I usually wear long sleeves.”

“I… I’m… I apologize,” Alex stammered, looking ashamed.

“No need. It’s only… I don’t know. I guess I’m just frustrated, y’know? I’ve been trying to let go of my past, cut off whatever connections to it that I can, and then suddenly you’re here, and Aaron goes to the same school and I guess it’s just kinda overwhelming, with all of these things suddenly rushing back up to greet me with a smack to the face. And these scars, they’re not something that I can exactly get rid of, at least not easily.”

John looked back at Alex, who was holding his clothes against his chest. “And I’m not mad at you or anything, really, and you weren’t this huge part of my past, like at all, but you were still _there_ , and we met during this really shitty time in my life – hell, _both_ of our lives – and I just wanted to distance myself from that time as much as possible.

“But it’s fine. You’re here now, and I can’t _make_ you go away, and hopefully I can make some new memories with you so that you’re more a part of _now_ rather than _then._ And right now, I just wanna sleep.”

Alexander looked up from his arms once John was finished. “Alright. Where should I sleep? Because Lafayette and Hercules are on the couch.”

“You know?” John said, laughing. “I did not think of this. You can take my bed, I’ll just sleep on the floor. And before you say anything,” John said, seeing that Alex was opening his mouth in protest, “this is the only option that I’ll accept. I’m gonna go steal the blankets from their bed. Go ahead and get comfy.” John slipped past Alex and into his roommates’ room, taking their big comforter and bringing it back into his room.

“Well? Go ahead, don’t feel guilty or whatever about stealing my bed,” John said, seeing that Alex was still standing in the middle of the room. Alex looked over to John who nodded encouragingly, and then made his way over to the bed, setting his small bundle of clothes down next to it.

John nodded in approval, laying the comforter on the floor to act as bedding and grabbed one of the pillows from his bed, tossing it down at the edge. He went back out and grabbed the blanket from off of the couch, throwing it over his friends before going back into their room to take their other blanket.

When John came back into his room, Alex was under the covers. John flicked off the light switch by the door and turned on the night light that he kept plugged in next to his dresser. He heard Alex sigh as he laid back in his makeshift bed and felt the need to explain himself. “I get night terrors if I sleep without a light.”

“It’s fine. I prefer to sleep with some light too. It lessens the pressure of the darkness.”

John sighed in relief. “Alright. Goodnight, Alexander,” he said, rolling over.

“Night John,” Alex replied.

John closed his eyes and tried to make himself fall asleep, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t. After laying there for what felt like several hours, but realistically, was only a few minutes, with no success, John got up to get a glass of water. When he came back, Alex was sitting up in the bed, braiding a section of his hair. He looked up in alarm when the door closed behind John, and he slowly laid back down.

“I don’t care that you’re up, Alex. I mean, look at me. I’m not even in a bed.” John smiled hopefully and it stretched into a full-on grin when Alex smiled back.

Alexander sat back up as John walked towards him, and scooted over so that they could both sit comfortably on the bed without touching; John was silently grateful for that.

“What’s on your mind, little turtle?” John asked, turning to face Alex, who had resumed braiding his hair.

Alex mirrored his position and said, “Taxes.”

“Taxes? Why taxes?”

“Because America’s financial system is fucked up and I was thinking of ways to make it better,” Alex explained, shrugging.

“The first way I thought of was overthrowing the government and establishing a new one, but that is quite unrealistic and would never work. Besides, I don’t know of too many people who would be willing to help me.

“Next, of course, is killing Donald Trump, but I doubt that that’d do anything for our financial system unless he gave all of his money to the US Government. And even then, I don’t think that would help any. It is still on the To-Do list though.”

“Naturally,” John said, hands fidgeting.

“Yes. And-” there was a bonking noise as Alex accidentally pulled himself forward by his hair and bumped his forehead into John’s.

He moved back quickly, saying, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” John said softly. there was silence between them for a few moments, which John broke by asking, “Can I hug you?”

Alex looked surprised by the question. “Yeah.”

John folded his arms around Alex and leaned his head on top of his shoulder and Alex hesitantly circled his own arms around John’s torso.

“Thank you,” John said quietly, but he didn’t let go. “I… I miss my mom.” He felt like a child saying it, but it was true.

“Is she still alive?” Alex asked, tracing gentle patterns on John’s back. He kept his touch light ad loose, making it clear that John could break away whenever he needed.

“No. She died almost…” John paused as he counted the years in his head, “7 years ago. When I was 16. I was _not_ in a good place after she died.” John squeezed his eyes shut.

“How did she die? If you don’t mind me asking,” Alexander asked, hurriedly adding on the last bit.

“It was a few weeks after she had my baby sister, Mary. She’d lost too much blood. We thought she’d be okay, and then she just… wasn’t. None of us resent Mary of course. She hadn’t done anything except be born.”

“How many siblings do you have?” Alex asked, resuming the patterns which he had paused in momentarily.

“There were five of us. I’m the oldest, and then there’s Martha, Henry Jr., James, and of course, little baby Mary.

“Henry had some serious issues after that, too. I think me and him were the ones who took her death the hardest, and then I came out as a guy, and not only that but a _gay guy_ and me and Henry would butt heads all the time, so I just stayed out of the house, getting drunk, trying stupid shit with my friends. Nanna took in my siblings while I went to rehab, and dad saw a therapist to help him out with everything.”

“How are things now? With your siblings and your dad?”

John laughed. Alex seemed to be full of questions. “They’re better. Henry’s much less of a dick, and he even calls me John now. He still slips up sometimes, but he’s trying, and I can appreciate that. Martha’s in her senior year of high school, and Jr.’s in 8th grade. They’re both so smart. And Mary has decided that she wants to be just like me, so I’ve been teaching her everything that I’ve learned in my classes.”

Alex’s fingers paused on John’s back again. “What about James?”

John had been hoping he wouldn’t ask that. He let out a shaky breath and said, so quietly that he could barely hear himself, “He would’ve been eleven this year.”

“Oh shit.” Alex said, and John couldn’t help but chuckle despite the topic of conversation.

He then extracted himself from Alex’s arms and said, “Let’s talk about something else. Like, literally _anything_ else.”

Alex chewed on his lip as he thought. “What’re you studying?” he asked after some time.

“I’m an art major with a concentration in education, and I’m getting my minor in Herpetology,” John said, for once glad to be talking about school.

“Herpetology?” Alex asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Yeah. It’s the study of reptiles and amphibians. And before you ask why, because I _know_ you will, it’s because I like turtles. That’s the only reason why,” John explained.

"Ah you know me so well already,“ Alex joked. “So I guess you’re like a furry, but for turtles. A scaly.”

John groaned. “Not you too! At least I don’t like horses.”

Alex looked alarmed. “Who likes horses?”

“Hercules. They have this weird fascination. Also, one time when they were drunk, they climbed on top of a horse statue and said, and I quote, ‘I’m gonna ride you like the naughty little horsie you are.’ So of course, they’re never going to live _that_ down,” John told Alex, who was fighting to keep in laughter.

“Holy fuck. I don’t like horses though. They are too tall and they know things that they shouldn’t.”

“Like what?” John asked, highly amused; a big contrast to how he’d been feeling just a few moments ago.

“Secrets. They are smarter than we think, my dear Laurens, and they won’t tell us what they know.”

At that, the door opened to reveal a sleepy Lafayette, and Alex jumped. “Alexander. You are still here. Good.”

“Hiya Laf!” John said cheerily, taking care to not hide his accent. “Have your pronouns changed?”

“I don’t fucking know John. I just woke up,” Laf said, rubbing their eyes. “Go to sleep.” They closed the door and John could hear them thud back to the living room.

“We probably should try to sleep,” John said.

Alexander sighed. “Yeah, probably. But first, where are you from?”

“Where did that come from?” John asked, thoroughly confused.

“The accent. Was it genuine?”

“Oh. Yeah, it’s real.” John put his head in one of his hands.

Alexander laughed and said something in French that John didn’t quite understand. “Tu es si mignon."

“What was that?” John asked, lifting up his head.

Alex shook his on head and smiled, saying, “Nothing, nothing. Do not worry your freckled-covered head about it,” with a straight face, but John could swear that he saw a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. Perhaps it was just the lighting though.

“And,” Alex began, “you never answered my question.”

“Which one? You’ve asked a lot of questions tonight.”

Alex rolled his eyes at John and said, “Where are you from? Because from your accent, it doesn’t sound like you’re from here, or even Virginia.”

“I’m from South Carolina,” John muttered.

“You don’t sound very proud of that,” Alex noted.

“And why would I be?” John challenged.

Alex looked thoughtful for a moment. “That’s true. But why-”

The door opened to once again reveal Lafayette. “John Laurens. Go. To. _Fucking_. Sleep.”

They shut the door and Alex whispered, “They are much less pleasant when tired.” John nodded vigorously in agreement. John slipped out from under his covers and onto the makeshift bed on the floor.

“Goodnight John.”

“Goodnight Alexander.”

And maybe John hadn’t expected for his past to come back to him, but right now, with Alexander’s gentle snoring lulling him to sleep, he didn’t think that it was quite so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tu es si mignon. = You are so cute. (thanks to @The_Willowy_Willow for correcting me!)


End file.
